Nyctalopia
by WolfeyKitten
Summary: Human/Werewolf AU. USUK. As the youngest CEO his company had ever seen, Alfred F Jones had been to England plenty of times. But he was definitely not prepared for what was waiting for him this time around. Pairing: Alfred/Arthur (America/England) Werewolf!England and gore. Character death.
1. Chapter 1

_As the youngest CEO his company had ever had, Alfred F Jones had been to England plenty of times. But he was definitely not prepared for what was waiting for him this time around. Pairing: Alfred/Arthur (America/England)_

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_A/N: Oops, I accidentally started this little fic in between chapters of Finem Pax Romana. It will be short, just three chapters long, has a little bit of gore(I didn't mean for this fic to turn out so gory gomen), and is just generally disappointing. So if that sort of thing doesn't interest you, I don't recommend reading this fic. It's not too bad, though. Reviews are much appreciated! (EDIT: Shit there's character death.)  
_

_A/N: ALSO, my werewolves are based off of the Skyrim werewolves. I just think they are really amazing and powerful. uwu_

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This wasn't Alfred's first trip to London, and it certainly wouldn't be his last. He went to and from England often these days, business reasons, mostly. But not this trip, this trip was more of a vacation for the busy American. It took nearly a month of his brother pestering him to take a holiday, which he eventually agreed to, of course. He knew he would give in eventually, it was just a matter of when.

_"Come on Alfie, you work way too much. We both know how much you're stressing right now, so don't even try to deny it. Hey! Maybe you'll meet a cute little British boy who drinks his tea with his pinky up!"_

Alfred rolled his eyes when he remembered Matthew's convincing argument. Alfred wasn't looking for a relationship right now, and especially not one that would involve a five-hour time difference. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy the fresh air in one of London's small, inner-city parks.

It was late march, and on either side of the cobbled path Alfred meandered along, pink clouds of cherry blossoms bloomed. Their petals littered the path and the freshly mowed grass surrounding them, and Alfred watched his feet as he walked down the straight road with his hands in his pockets. It was still much too cold for the American, but it wasn't so bad that it deterred Alfred from lazily shuffling over the cobblestone in the park, his hands stuffed in the cozy pockets of his unzipped bomber jacket. The park wasn't busy today, which was nice. A few people dotted the grass on the side of the path, sitting happily among the fallen cherry blossoms and chatting cheerfully with their friend or lover. The occasional cyclist would speed past Alfred, and often he would pass a stranger or two walking with a companion, sharing a polite wave or nod of the head.

Alfred had been walking all morning, working out some of the stress of his job through his legs. It was his first day London, and he planned to stay for a full two weeks, making this trip the longest he had ever spent in a foreign country. It was nice, he thought, and he was looking forward to seeing a lot of sights that he typically missed when he would stay in London for work.

He approached a shiny black bench. His feet were starting to ache, so he figured it was time he stopped to rest for a few moments. He angled off towards the bench, taking a seat next to a man who was already sitting there, holding the local newspaper high as he read from its pages. Alfred glanced over at the front page. The headline was written in big, bold text.

_**"Gruesome murders still go unsolved, killer remains at large"**_

Alfred winced, but read on.

_"The search for a killer continued two weeks ago when yet another mutilated body washed up on the banks of the Thames. Officials speculate that the body was already a week old when it was discovered. Missing large chunks of flesh and having dozens of bite wounds, authorities are attempting to push it off as a rabid dog attack. But, being the eighth death in a series of similar attacks in the past two years, many are disagreeing and fear for the lives of themselves and loved ones. Continued on page 9"_

Alfred grimaced. He hated hearing bad news, and could barely even stomach something as grotesque as mutilated bodies and and flesh torn from bone. How could someone do that to another human being? Somewhere in his mind, he desperately hoped it had been a dog after all. He tried to shake the thought, to no avail. He needed something to take his mind off of the gruesome words he had just read.

"Nice day, ain't it?" He spoke at the man who was seated next to him.

He lowered his newspaper slightly, enough for him to peer over the top and eye Alfred suspiciously. His hair was loose and blond, and it fell over his thick, dark eyebrows. His eyes were a brilliant green, so brilliant that Alfred thought they even looked animalistic.

"Isn't it."

"What?"

"Isn't it," this time the stranger repeated it louder, his accent was heavily British. "It's a nice day, _isn't it._"

Now Alfred understood.

"Nice day, _isn't it?_"

The Brit took a deep breath and turned the page of his paper. "Yes, I would say it is. The wind is barely disturbing my reading. That's saying something this time of year."

Alfred's eyes darted to the headliner again. "Have your read about those murders? The ones with the mutilated bodies and the killer on the loose?" Dammit. He started the conversation to get away from the thought of those bodies, yet here he was. Sometimes he couldn't get that mouth if his to behave.

"Yes."

Alfred waited for the stranger to continue. When he didn't, Alfred continued for him.

"So? What do you think? Do you think there's actually a human being out there who could do that to someone else?"

The strange man glared at Alfred over his newspaper. "Don't be daft. Of course it's not a murder. Those were obviously dog bites." The Brit's words settled Alfred's nerves a little, that was something he needed to hear. But he was still not satisfied.

"But what about all the other attacks and stuff?"

"Coincidence." The Englishman was silent as he focused on his paper.

Alfred was unsure of what today next. "My name is Alfred!"

"Arthur."

"Pleased to meet you, Arthur!"

"Likewise." Arthur never took his eyes from the newspaper. He was silent again.

A few moments went by before Alfred spoke again. "Whatcha reading about?"

"America's impending economic collapse."

"Hey, I'm from America!" Arthur sat his newspaper down in his lap.

"No kidding." Alfred failed to recognize the Brit's sarcasm.

"Yep! I'm here on vacation! My brother, Matt, made me do it, but I'm totally liking it so far. I'll be here for another two weeks!" At this, Arthur's interest actually piqued.

"Two weeks you say? Are you here alone for that entire time?"

"Yep! I'll be outa here next Friday! I invited Matt to come, but he had to turn me down. Had to work. Kind of ironic, actually, because the reason he made me take a vacation was because _I _was working too hard. That kid deserves a break just as much as I do, you feel me?" Arthur knitted his distinctive eyebrows together.

"Yes. So where are you staying?

"Just at the Lancaster, down the road a ways. Why?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Just curious." He paused, yawning and stretching his arms over his head after sitting on that bench all morning. Alfred watched his mouth open wide with the yawn, and he got a very clear look at Arthur's unique set of teeth. His canines were longer than usual, which wasn't _overly _uncommon, but still struck Alfred as interesting. The Brit's other teeth seemed sharper and more carnivorous as well, but Alfred thought he might be seeing things at this point. Arthur lowered his arms.

"Say, if you're not doing anything later, how about you and I get a drink together?"

Alfred was ecstatic. "Woah, I'd love to! Do you got a place in mind? 'Cause if you don't, I totally know-"

Arthur cut him off. "It's 'do you _have_' and yes, I do."

.

Hours later, Arthur sat next to the obnoxious American, leisurely swirling the alcohol around in his shallow glass. He had been half-listening to Alfred talk for the last twenty minutes, the never ending words just spilling out of his mouth.

Arthur couldn't believe this. His next meal had just sat down next to him in the park and started a conversation. He had a little under a week to gain this American's trust, but he knew it would be easy. He's feasted on his type before, and he knew that blind trust was an easy feat to achieve. His stomach growled as he watched the American talk, and he knew he would eat well when the full moon arrived next week. After all, he was growing sick with the distasteful meats he would pick up at the supermarket.

He took a tiny sip of the alcohol in his cup. The American was talking about his home in New York City, and his job running a corporation of some sort. Arthur could not care less. He just kept his eyes on Alfred and pretended to be interested in the conversation. He had to admit, Alfred was definitely something to look at, he had dirty blond hair, and an abnormal sort of cowlick that stuck up from the part in his hair. His face was handsome and his eyes were a pretty blue color, and he wore small spectacles that sat haphazardly on his nose. His scent was of fast food and and expensive smelling cologne, and Arthur thought he could pick up faint traces of something else, but is keen sense of smell was diluted by alcohol and this petty human nose. He had already had three drinks to Arthur's one, but he showed no signs of slowing down as he spoke on and on.

"Arthur? Arthur!" The Brit snapped out of his trance at the sound of his name. "Are you even listening to me?

"Of course I am." This was his only reply.

"Then what did I just say?" Arthur stopped, he had no idea. He considered taking a guess, but he thought better of that plan. His face scrunched up.

"Something about America, no doubt." Alfred furrowed his brow.

"Nope, I asked you to tell me about yourself! I've been goin' on about myself for _ages_. I want to know about you now! Like do you have any brothers or sisters? I told you about Matt, back at home." Arthur felt silly, and even a little embarrassed. Despite this, he answered Alfred's question truthfully.

"No. I am an only child."

"What about your parents?"

Arthur's eyes darkened. His parents died long ago. They met a morbid and untimely death _decades _ago, and Arthur did not want to remember the sight of their mangled corpses that lay destroyed on the wooden floor of their tiny cottage in the woods. It was partly their fault, however. They knew what would happen if they tried to stay with Arthur over the course of the full moon, He had told them to go, to run far away. They were convinced that they were safe with the chains that were shackled around Arthur's wrists, but even today, Arthur could remember too clearly the ease with which the chains snapped under the pressure of his enhanced strength just minutes after he had turned. He tried to hold back, he tried to turn away. But the beast that invaded in his mind had other plans. They just looked so succulent, so easy and helpless as they tried to run, and he hadn't eaten in so long...

"They are long dead."

Alfred's cheery face immediately filled with false sympathy. "Oh... I'm sorry, dude. I didn't realize..."

_No, don't apologize. I don't want your sympathy. It was my own fault._

"No. It is quite alright. It was a long time ago."

Alfred's face reverted to normal as he tried to change the subject. "How about a girl? Surely you have a girl?

Actual pain filled Arthur's gaze this time. He took a deep sip of his alcohol, finishing off what was in the small glass.

"I had someone once, but he's dead now."

Alfred's face filled with horror. "So you don't have anyone now? You're completely alone?" Arthur was going to need more rum if this conversation was going to continue. How could this American be so insensitive?

"Yes."

"So you're just like me then!" Arthur doubted that he was _anything _like this American. "I mean, I got Mattie, but he's not around too much. The kid lives up in Canada. Speaks French and everything. Other than him, though, I don't really have anyone else... Well, there was this guy I liked this one time, but he only liked me back for my money." He paused, rubbing the back of his head. "_That _relationship didn't go over too well..."

Ok so maybe Alfred was a _little _like him. That didn't mean anything.

"Hey! Maybe you and me could do something together!" Arthur was glad to hear that, even if it wasn't grammatically correct. The American seemed to like him, and that was good if he was going to lure this oblivious fellow somewhere where he can feast safely. He wasn't being careful enough lately, what with his leftovers showing up in body bags on the local news. He was going to have to be a little more discreet with this one.

"We _are _doing something together."

"No, I mean something else! I'm looking for someone to show me around London, hint hint, I can't be expected to see everything on my own. I was going to just rely on a pamphlet from my hotel lobby, but that's not as fun, if you catch my drift."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and his lips nearly curled into a smile. "That sounds lovely," he lied.

They made an appointment to meet in the park tomorrow morning, the same park that Arthur sat in reading his newspaper when this bubbly American showed up in his life. Arthur promised to show him the sights of London like Alfred had asked, and the cheery man smiled and laughed excitedly, as if everything was okay. For the remainder of the evening, he talked about his penthouse in New York as if he was ever going to see it again. With every smile that graced Alfred's face, Arthur's stomach growled painfully with hunger. It wasn't until the evening was over that Arthur realized that this was going to be a _very _long week.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Okay, I promise I'm working on Finem Pax Romana, but I've been working on this as well, and this chapter got finished first. Like I said, my werewolves are based off of the Skyrim werewolves in terms of appearance. You can Google it if you want a visual. Mmmm, there's a bit of a gore warning here, so watch yourself._

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_The forest flew by as an unnatural beast dodged the trees to the left and right. Prey. It could smell it, it could hear the prey's heart pounding quickly in its chest and the blood running through its veins. The beast stopped. The prey was close, the prey was here. Its nose twitched as its searched for its meal, moving cautiously around the trees. _

_Kill. The prey is here. Kill the Prey. _

_It turned his head around a tree, following its nose to find the prey._

_There. The prey is there._

_Its ravenous green eyes saw the cowering figure that lay quivering at the base of the tree. It could not run or flee, The beast had won. The figure was faceless and small, hardly a meal for a great predator such as this werewolf. It would have to do. The wolf's jaws opened wide in a deafening roar._

_The beast lunged at the cowering form, teeth bared as it aimed to rip out the figure's throat. White teeth flashed before they sunk into the soft pale skin of the human's fragile neck, and blood sprayed into the beast's sandy colored fur as it heard the satisfying sound of bones cracking. It's claws ripped into the human's sides, cleanly tearing through the tender flesh like a knife through butter. It shook its head, mangling the body further before dropping it to the ground. It's jaws pulled away and it threw its head back in an ear-piercing howl._

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Arthur jolted awake. He noticed the sun shimmering through the curtains of his small bedroom, the beams of bright light shining directly into his eyes as he tried to shut them again. The light shone through his eyelids regardless, making him sigh and accept the morning for what it was. It was the day of the full moon, and the beast blood that flowed in his veins was coming alive as his mind and body prepared itself for tonight. Arthur should be excited, he should be ready to feast on human flesh to ease his aching hunger. But something gnawed at Arthur, something unfamiliar stirred inside him as he thought of his meal. He shoved the feeling away.

Arthur hauled himself out of bed. He had planned to meet Alfred in the park again today, where they would spend the morning together like they had done every morning for the last week since they met. Despite the fact that Alfred had originally wanted to go sightseeing with the Brit, they hadn't done much of that at all. What they _had _done, however, was sit on the grass and talked. Well, Alfred had done most of the talking, but over the course of the week, Arthur had started to enjoy listening to this American's loud voice. It was almost a shame that it wasn't going to be around for much longer. After taking a quick shower and dressing himself in clothes that he didn't mind having ripped to shreds, he grabbed his light coat and headed out the door. He usually skipped out on breakfast, especially on this day of the month. There was only one food that he could stomach _this_ close to the full moon. Anything else he would just throw back up.

He walked casually along the sidewalk as he neared his park. It was only a short walk away from his small home, a trek that he made most mornings anyways. However, most mornings he would have a newspaper folded under his arm and a hot cup of coffee in his hand. Today he was equipped with neither, because he knew that Alfred would be waiting for him when he arrived.

And he was right, because when he walked up to the place that they had met together every day, Alfred was waiting for him on that bench. That bench that brought the two together, and it would be that bench that was the reason Alfred would not be going home. For some reason, that thought tugged at Arthur, it had been pulling strings inside of him all week long, gradually gaining more and more traction as they pulled in opposite directions. The strings pulled him back, but the strings also pulled him forward, towards the crazy American. They were going to tear Arthur apart. Fortunately, string could be torn and cut with lashing teeth and sharp claws.

"Good morning, Alfred." The American had not seen him approach. He looked up from his phone to see Arthur sitting down with him on the bench, grinning softly. Alfred smiled.

"Hey! What's up dude!" Alfred paused for a moment. "Artie, are you okay? You're looking kinda under the weather..." Arthur wondered how that American had noticed so quickly.

"No, no, I'm quite alright." It was a lie. Arthur had been feeling aches of hunger and dizziness all week long, and the malnourishment was starting to show on Arthur. He would eat regular meats this close to the full moon, if they didn't taste so disgusting. He wanted human flesh. He wanted Alfred. The longing he felt for this human was strange, it was beyond most of the desires he felt to feed, and it was chewing him up. All Arthur wanted was _this _man. Alfred was his every thought, his every desire. His mouth started to water as he thought on.

"Are you sure? Because we could totally meet tomorrow, or whenever you're feeling better, you know?

_No. I need you today. Today out of all days._

"I assure you, Alfred, that I am fine. Now, what would you like to do today?" The last few days they had sat and chatted, eventually getting up to take a walk around London. Arthur watched Alfred gaze up at all the beautiful buildings, laughing, having fun. Looking over at Arthur, his eyes bright blue and gleaming like the sun. Arthur felt kind of sad all of the sudden.

"Mmm I dunno," Alfred slurred. "I was thinking maybe we could just walk or something. Remember that cute little coffee shop we passed the other day?" Arthur nodded. "I want to go there!" Alfred's smile was unfaltering, and Arthur couldn't help but smile too.

"Okay, then shall we go?"

Alfred stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket. "Yeah!"

.

They stepped into the small coffee shop, it was a warm contrast to the cold air outside, and the atmosphere was pleasant and comforting. There were tables against the wall, and one corner was nothing but fluffy brown pillows and a few bean bag chairs. Alfred's eyes lit up.

"Woah, Arthur, this place totally rules. Look, they've even got that hot chocolate that you can get a picture in the foam." He was right, latte art was advertised on the menu that sat high up on the wall behind the counter. "You want anything, Artie?"

Arthur shook his head. "No thank you."

Alfred took his hand and pulled him farther into the cafe. He led the Brit over to the corner where the pillows were, and told him to sit there while he went to get some hot chocolate. Arthur had never been in a cafe like this, so he didn't quite know what to expect. He did as Alfred said and sat down on the pillows, making himself comfortable while he watched the excited American prance up to the counter and converse with the teenage girl working there. They spoke a few words before she went to work preparing his hot chocolate, no doubt Alfred was ordering the finest latte art they had. Arthur ignored the scene up at the counter and just rested his head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. He felt this uneasy feeling, this feeling that he couldn't shake about Alfred. Something was wrong about this boy he was preparing to kill, but when Arthur tried to dwell on that thought, the only thing he could feel was his insatiable hunger for the American.

Alfred slumped down next to him in the pillows, mindful of his hot chocolate. The American sat down much too close for comfort. Or maybe it was much too comfortable to be this close, Arthur couldn't quite tell.

"I know you said you didn't want any, but I got you some anyways." Alfred handed him a steaming cup of hot cocoa. Arthur couldn't quite believe that. He took the warm cup into his hands, looking up at Alfred with an innocent look of shock in his eyes. _He got me some anyways? But why? _Arthur glanced down at the art on the surface of the hot liquid. There was a wolf traced into the foam of the warm drink, beautifully done by the girl working the counter. Arthur could not believe this. He looked back into Alfred's bright blue eyes, not expecting what he saw. Alfred's eyes where the same as always, but they were so... warm, and happy, Arthur felt his heart jump out of his chest at the sight of Alfred's gently smiling face next to him.

"Thank you," he manages to eek out eventually, his mouth was dry when he looked back down at the chocolate. "Why... Why did you pick a wolf?"

Alfred shrugged. "I like wolves. And you kind of reminded me of one, so when she showed me the wolf design, I thought it would be perfect." Arthur felt all of the color drain from his face and his stomach flipped. He tried to look away from the American, but he couldn't.

"You like wolves?" His voice was barely more than a whisper as he forced the words out of his mouth.

"Well, yeah, who wouldn't? Wolves are like, totally rad. One of my favorite animals, actually!" Arthur couldn't breathe. He looked down at his hot chocolate.

"Me too."

_No. Arthur. Don't get attached to your food._

He considered backing out now, but it was much too late. There was no way that Arthur was going to find a suitable meal this late, so he figured he might as well make the best of Alfred's last day. He smiled back at the American, pushing away the thought of what was to come later that night.

"Speaking of wolves, did you know that tonight is the full moon?"

_Thank you for that reminder._

"Yes, I did, actually. I guess you could say I've been looking forward to it." Arthur stated, before taking a sip from his cup and praying that he could stomach it. Arthur wasn't quite sure if he meant that as much as he used to.

"Me too!" Arthur nearly laughed at the cruel irony of the situation, but kept it in.

"And why is that?"

Alfred smiled. "Okay, okay, don't think I'm weird for saying this, but, because of werewolves. I used to think they were totally scary, but now they're like, way cool."

Arthur nearly dropped his cup. "W-why do you like werewolves?"

"Well, I always thought they were really cool. Can I tell you a secret? You've got to promise not to tell anyone else, okay?" For a brief second, he thought Alfred might tell him that he was a werewolf or something of the like, but Arthur shoved that away. He knew Alfred was human, or he would have smelt the beast blood in him by now. So it had to be something else. Arthur nodded.

"Well, I've always sort of wanted a werewolf boyfriend, like the girl in the movies. How cool would that be?" Arthur stopped everything. He stopped breathing, he stopped thinking, he stopped seeing. This was too cruel. How could fate lead this innocent boy to a demise like this? Arthur always knew that life was never fair for anyone, but this seemed much too wrong.

"N-no, that doesn't sound 'cool' at all." Arthur tripped over his words. "What if werewolves aren't really like the way they are in the movies, what if they are just hungry beasts out to feed on the ones close to them? What if they walk around during the day, searching for their prey and befriending it, only to lure it to its death on the night of the full moon?" Arthur wished he could reclaim the words that he had just let loose. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but it didn't stop him from making the statement.

"Well, yeah, there's always that... But I like to think that that wouldn't be the case. But I guess I'll never know, will I."

Arthur shook his head, his eyes staring blindly down at his half-empty cup. The wolf on the surface and smudged and slurred, and was no longer recognizable. He didn't want to think anymore, he didn't want to have to deal with the confliction inside of him. He had to eat something, he _had _to. Going a full moon without a meal would be hell. He didn't think he could make another month without feeding. In all his years, Arthur had only skipped a meal once... that was a long, long time ago, and Arthur refused to think of the consequences he had suffered. Arthur just wanted to get this over quickly. He silently pleaded for the end of this day, when Alfred's beautiful smile would be nothing more than a memory, and Arthur could move on in his life with a nice, full stomach. He sipped his hot chocolate again, pushing the thought of devouring Alfred out of his mind, for now.

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_A/N: Thank you for reading! Reviews are much appreciated!_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I am so, so sorry for this might not want to read it if you dislike stuff that doesn't suck. Consider yourself officially warned. Oh and thank you a TON to the couple of people who commented on this. You made my day, I love you all. Without further adieu, I give you this piece of shit that I've managed to produce. Have fun._

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The day was winding down, and the two had since abandoned the tiny cafe and talk of moons and wolves. Now they walked the quiet streets on the edge of the city, and looking up at the sky, Arthur could tell it was around five o'clock in the evening. He sighed.

"Yo Artie, do you even know where we are? It seems like we've been walking for a really long time... Not that I'm complaining or anything."

The truth is, Arthur _didn't _actually know exactly where they were, but it's not like they were actually lost. He could easily get back home, if he wanted too.

"Of course I know where we are."

"Well, shouldn't we be heading back? It looks like its gonna be dark soon, and I don't want to be like, mega-lost in the dark you know?" Arthur wasn't quite sure what he meant by 'mega-lost', but it didn't really matter. They weren't lost.

"Well, I was thinking, and..." Arthur paused for a few heartbeats. This was his last chance. He could back out now, he could walk away from Alfred and skip his meal, but this American would live another day. They could spend another week together before Alfred left for home. Or he could continue with his plan, he could lure Alfred away and-

His stomach growled painfully as he inhaled a breath of Alfred's scent.

"I was thinking we could take a stroll out to the countryside. It's not far now, and it looks absolutely breathtaking in the light of the full moon." Alfred thought for a moment, and Arthur gritted his teeth painfully, a small part of him was hoping that the American would decline his offer in favor of curling up in his warm hotel room, under the safety of the fluffy comforters. Arthur thought how nice it would be to join him, to curl up and forget his hunger forever with this cheerful American…

"Sure, that sounds great!" Dammit. Arthur pretended that he wasn't at all disappointed. More for the sake of himself than Alfred, however. At least it would soon be over, and the confusion that this American made him feel would be put to rest at last. Arthur smiled as happily as he could.

"Fantastic. There is a very nice back road just this way... It winds over beautiful hills on the way out of the city, I think you'll love it." It wasn't a lie. He knew of a back road close by that he used to walk down a lot, and not just to get away from the busy city on the night of the full moon. As he walked along the narrowing road leading out of the city, he prayed it was still usable. It must have been ten years since he used this way, and it brought back more than a few memories. He pushed the thoughts away, repressing them like he did every emotion that felt wrong and made him uncomfortable. As they approached the small, gravel road he had in mind, he sighed in relief that it was still available for his use. They turned down the tiny road, walking close against a fence on one side of the road that Arthur did not remember existing.

He could smell Alfred padding along next to him, and he could hear his heart beating extremely softly in his chest. As they walked and chatted down the gravel road, Arthur could her the thumping in the American's chest grow slightly louder and louder as the sky turned turquoise and the sun turned into orange blurs on the horizon. His thoughts were deteriorating into nothing but the man walking beside him, his heartbeat thumping harder in his chest as Arthur's hearing became more and more sensitive. He could smell Alfred, he could smell the trust in him, the contemptment in the moment, but he could also smell his flesh and his blood. The transformation itself would happen quickly, but in the long moments before the transformation, Arthur would notice his senses heighten, and fog would encase his thoughts as he continued onward. Everything around him was crystal clear, but his stomach felt like falling out of his body. This was the most uneasy he'd ever felt before a transformation, and he could figure it out… he didn't understand why-

_Oh._

Arthur's world came crashing down around him as he felt something warm against his hand. Alfred had taken his trembling hand into his own as they walked. Arthur was vaguely aware of the sunset taking place around them as his eyes shot up at Alfred, mortified. His green eyes met Alfred's deep blue ones, his eyes dancing in the dimming light of the sun was one of the most beautiful sights Arthur had ever seen. A scent washed over Arthur, a scent that he would have recognized sooner if it had not been for the smell of delicious flesh. The scent was hiding from Arthur for who knows how long, remaining shielded behind his unending hunger for this American. It took this long for him to realize, to long, that the hunger he felt wasn't going to be satisfied by making a meal of Alfred. The scent he had identified was care, compassion, _love. _

_How long had Alfred felt this way?_ He wondered. _How could I have missed something that smelled so strong, so sweet? How could I have been so blind to what was in front of me all along?_

"How could I have been so foolish," he whispered. He did not want Alfred to die. He just wished he would have realized this sooner.

"What?" Alfred looked so innocent, so confused. There was nothing Arthur could do now, but tell him to run and then try not to chase him. He didn't know how long he would be able to resist his scent, it was so, so strong now...

"Alfred, you have to listen to me, you have to get out of here, run, run away, don't look back… I'm so, so sorry, I'm sorry… I…" Arthur's voice was panicked and tears were welling in his eyes. He didn't dare look up at Alfred's face, he kept his eyes fixed lows as he tried his hardest to force the words out of his mouth.

"I don't understand…" Arthur gripped into Alfred's shirt.

"Don't try to understand, just run!" Arthur now looked up at his American, tears in his eyes. "Please…" the scent of fear washed over Arthur, kick starting something in his brain that made him so hungry. He pushed Alfred away and frantically backed into the barbwire fence behind him. "Run!"

Alfred's eyes where wide by now, but he still didn't run. He stood in the road, shocked and unable to move.

_Fool! What is he doing, I told him to run! _

Arthur was just as fearful as Alfred, he backed as far as he could into the barbwire, he could feel it jabbing into his back. His eyes darted to the sunset. It was sinking dangerously low, he didn't have much time left.

"Why won't you run! Bastard, you're going to get killed if you stay here much longer!" Something like realization swept over Alfred's eyes. He shook his head back and forth, and the scent of fear increased tenfold in the atmosphere around Arthur. He breathed it in, inhaling as much as he could. _Food._

_No, not food. Alfred, _he fought to tell himself. If Alfred were to start running, he'd make it close enough to the city to where he would be safe. Why wouldn't he start running?

"Arthur," his voice pierced his entire world like glass shards falling from a broken mirror. Arthur stopped thinking and seeked for more of his voice, gentle and calming for once. He wanted to hear more of it, more of it before he would never hear it again…

"Arthur listen to me," It's not like Arthur wanted anything else in the world than to listen to his beautiful American. "It's going to be alright." Alfred's voice was trembling just as much as Arthur's, the Brit guessed he could see the transformation beginning in his eyes and teeth. Arthur sure could feel it, his canines grew uncomfortably in his mouth, and his other teeth sharpened as well. Despite Arthur's best efforts, they cut painfully into the mouth that they didn't quite fit in.

"No! Why don't you run now? You might could make it! There's nothing you could do, Alfred... you can't talk to me once I turn! You're just prey, Alfred! You have to run!" His voice was much too desperate.

"You and I both know it's too late for that, Arthur," The Brit didn't want to hear that out loud. It was true, he had known it from the minute he asked Alfred to accompany him out of town. But he refused to believe that this was it for his American. There had to be a way out, a way around this bloody end...

"But hey, I'm going to have the _coolest _death by a long shot, huh? I wish Mattie could see me now," Alfred sighed. "It's a shame he'll never know how I went, ain't it?" How could he be saying those things so easily?

"I-isn't it," Arthur still had it in him to correct his American.

Alfred just laughed helplessly. It was one of the worst sounds Arthur had ever heard. Alfred slowly stepped closer to him. "But do you know what? I almost had a werewolf boyfriend," he was so close to Arthur now, only inches away from him as the Brit tried to back farther into the barbed wire. "and that's something I've sort of wanted, the kind of thing I would put on my bucket list, maybe..." Arthur's heart pumped in his chest. He could still smell the fear and the flesh, and the love. The love smelt so delectable, even more so than the fear that enticed him so strongly. The scent of fear was ebbing away from Alfred, however, and as the smell dimmed, so did Arthur's own fear.

Arthur nodded, he knew what Alfred was trying to say, and hoped that he would understand his reply. His breath caught in his throat and his heart shot through the sky as Alfred held both of his hands. His eyes looked sadly into Arthur's, the deep blue hue was dimming into gray with the setting sun's dwindling rays. Soon darkness would engulf them both and Alfred would be gone.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" The words sounded much better in his head than they did when they came out of his mouth.

Arthur was not expecting Alfred's reply to sound the way it did. "Because, if I had to chose one way to go, this would definitely be it. I could die at any moment, like, something could happen and I would be dead. Seems like a waste of a perfectly cool death. You only get one, after all, and torn to bits by your werewolf boyfriend? That's totally rad!"

Arthur tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a choke. "Yes, yes, I suppose it is."

"On the English countryside, under a beautiful sunset... It's just like you said, Arthur, it's breathtaking." Arthur tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. He found it hard to breathe as if his lungs had stopped accepting air. His eyes scanned Alfred's face, his vision was shifting over to something more equipped for the darkness, so the last rays of sunlight gradually became blinding to Arthur. His currently limited vision could only catch so much, but he did notice when Alfred's hopeless eyes glanced down at Arthur's open jaw and then back to his eyes. At first, Arthur thought he was gazing at the pointed teeth that sat awkwardly in his mouth, but when Alfred said his name, he understood.

"Arthur?" Arthur nodded as quickly as he could. He tried to swallow past the lump that occupied his throat, and he mouthed the word "please", unable to say it aloud. The few seconds after that seemed to slur by all at once. "Arthur, I love you."

Alfred pressed his lips to Arthur's, carefully at first. The Brit's eyes fluttered closed and he reached up to wrap his arms around Alfred's neck as the American kissed him softly. He parted his lips slightly, as if out of instinct, and he felt Alfred's arms around his waist. His warm lips were soft and gentle against his own as they opened and moved with Arthur's. Alfred's tongue grazed Arthur's bottom lip, and he couldn't help but want more of his rambunctious American. His beautiful, crazy man who stood on an old, gravel road and kissed him under the sunset. It would have been perfect, had the darkness of the night kept its distance. The sunlight was dangerously dim, and Arthur's muscles began to pain him all over. His razor-sharp teeth grazed against Alfred's lip, and he instinctively bit down, drawing blood. Alfred winced and tried to pull away, but a sharp growl rose from Arthur's throat and his glowing green eyes shot open as he kept his teeth clamped on the other man's soft lip. Arthur could taste warm blood wash over his dog-like tongue, and he lapped up the blood hungrily and unlatched his teeth from the bloodied lip.

Alfred's arms fell from their position around Arthur, and Arthur's hands slid down the American's sculpted back. They pulled him to the ground, shoving him to the road forcefully. Arthur had not intended for that at all, how could he so easily drag Alfred to the ground? How could he so easily have lapped up his blood like it was his very life source? It tasted so good on his tongue. He wanted so much more than that little sample.

Arthur fell over Alfred, who had helplessly propped himself off of the rigid gravel. Instead of hairless, pink hands landing against the unforgiving ground, huge claws fell heavily on either side of Alfred's shoulders. The thick, white claws clicked against the gravel, the sharp sound was lost among the sound of the small rocks shifting under Arthur's weight. The new hands were dusted with a light coat of sandy colored fur, similar to the color of Arthur's hair. Whimpers came from Arthur's newly molded jaws, and the pointed blond ears on the top of Arthur's head lie flat. His tail swished angrily from side to side as his back paws dug into the gravel when he picked one of his beastly hands from the ground. His claws raked across his own body, shredding his constricting clothing that hugged his body painfully. He threw his head back in a deafening howl.

The beast's attention diverted back to his prey now that the pain from the transformation had subsided, and his whimpers faded into teeth-baring growls. His body shook, his fur puffed out and his shredded clothing fell from his body. His nose twitched sporadically as he inhaled as much as he could about Alfred's scent. His breath came in short, rapid bursts as he tried to take in as much information as he could, searching for the scent of fear. The werewolf sniffed expeditiously, pressing his nose into the skin around Alfred's collarbone. His wet nose traced up Alfred's neck, pausing just below his ear and growling loudly. The sweet scent of fear was untraceable. There _was_ no fear emanating from Alfred. A tough, wet tongue lapped over Alfred's neck and ear. The beast huffed and pulled away, propping himself on his hind paws.

_So hungry. Such easy prey._

He roared. The sound was ear-splitting. He could smell the flesh, he could smell the blood that flowed through the human before him. He could hear the heartbeat in this pale human's tiny chest.

_Why won't it run. Why won't the prey run?_

He paced to the side of the prey, letting his front claws click against the ground again. His sandy fur glistened in the rising moonlight. The beast could smell the flesh, it could taste the blood on its tongue. He still did not attack. It faked a lunge toward the prey, hoping to invoke a spark of fear as he roared again. It worked, The human on the ground jolted away from the beast. The werewolf took this opportunity to attack.

It lunged at the prey, sinking its fangs into the flesh of his upper arm. Alfred screamed out in pain as more of the sweet blood washed into the wolf's mouth. Arthur could not rip the flesh from Alfred's bone. His ears shot forward at the sound of the scream, and his teeth detached from the fleshy arm as he stumbled away from Alfred.

_No._

He lunged again, clamping his teeth around Alfred's forearm this time. More blood gushed into Arthur's hungry mouth and Alfred's screams rang in his ears. The beast jerked backwards, pulling Alfred's body with him and hearing the snap of bone under his teeth.. The human still did not make an attempt at escape. Arthur dropped Alfred's limp arm against the dirty gravel, anger welling in his mind and body as he roared his frustration at his prey.

He had not gone for the neck yet. That was usually his first move when he caught the prey, allowing himself the satisfaction of breaking the fragile neck was what he looked forward to after the hunt. But this was no hunt, this was pathetic. He wanted his prey to run, to fear him.

He ran at his prey, gripping it's calf between his jaws as he ran past. Alfred's body dragged along the gravel road nearly ten feet, and Arthur felt the bone snap beneath his jagged teeth. Alfred screamed again, he spoke some words that came out as a whimper, but Arthur did not understand. Nor did he really care, all he cared about was the taste of the blood in his mouth and the smell of the whimpering human that lay on the ground.

He kept dragging the defenseless human down the gravel road, letting the skin on its back be ruined by the stones. He slung his head forward, careless as to the well-being of his prey. Alfred flopped forward, his screams had ceased, the only sounds that came from his petty human mouth were whimpers of pain. Why was his prey teasing him like this?

Arthur stopped to examine the bleeding, broken mess before him. He could still hear the pumping pulse and short breaths coming from the prey as it looked back at him. Green, wolfish eyes gazed into dim, blue ones. Alfred looked so desperate. The wolf-like creature moved forward, bringing his snout into the fearful face of the tiny human. He sniffed some more, unable to understand why he could not feast on this prey. He drew his tongue over Alfred's face, licking at the blood that still ran from his lip.

He did not know why, but he was not allowed to kill this human.

Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He was so hungry, he needed food. He had to eat, he _had _to. He barked loudly, whining into Alfred's face before stumbling away. He ran as fast as he could away from Alfred, abandoning him on the road as he sprinted farther away from town on all fours.

.

Arthur woke curled against a fencepost in a large, green field. His brain hammered against his head painfully, and his hands were sticky and caked with blood. the taste of flesh was stale in his mouth and he wiped the dried blood from his face with a pale arm. Memories rushed into his head as he sat up from the ground, the soft grass had left uncomfortable imprints in his human skin. The sun was still low in the sky, telling Arthur that it was still early and he had most likely been out for a few hours at most. The first memories to rush back into his mind were the sounds of Alfred's screams and the feeling of snapping bones beneath his jaws. His stomach was full, and his heart did a flip. He nearly vomited into the grass as he remembered the sound of his name on Alfred's lips as he screamed, and the blood that gushed into his mouth when he clamped down on his flesh. He put his head in his hands.

Wait a minute, he had not eaten Alfred last night. He had instead run away from his boyfriend, as he had remembered confirming a relationship before turning, down the road and into this field. He raised his head from his hands, and looked over to a horse carcass that lay just a few yards away. It had been torn open, and its insides were strewn about within a five foot radius of the dead animal. Blood stained the grass around Arthur, some of it had splashed _yards_ from its source. He grimaced, picturing himself ripping into the dying animal, tearing chunks of flesh from its body.

_How disgusting_, he thought, wincing at the memory of devouring the prey. At least he wasn't as hungry, despite the fact that he had only eaten a horse, and not human meat. He stood up, horror budding in his mind as he took a moment to realize the state he had left Alfred in when he fled. He gripped the fencepost behind him to steady himself and wait for his vision to clear. His clothes were gone, but that was the least of his worries as he darted out of the field and onto the road. He ran as fast as he could, wincing at the pain of the gravel digging into his bare feet. Blood caked most of his body, and as he ran down the road he started to wonder exactly how much of it belonged to the horse he had slaughtered, and how much of it was Alfred's. He dashed as fast as he could along the path, running for quite some time before a figure was visible on the side of the road. A pool of dried blood stained the gravel, and a brown trail led a few yards away, off of the road. Arthur ran right up to the broken figure that sat propped against a post, throwing himself onto the ground and flopping his shaking arms over Alfred. Arthur couldn't breathe, his lungs would not work. Alfred's skin was white and cool and his head lolled to one side, his eyes closed. Arthur put his head to his American's chest and listened for a heartbeat. He held his breath.

The heartbeat never came.

Arthur's world fell to pieces. _No. _His vision went white. _No!_ This wasn't real. This was a dream. In real life, Alfred was fine and they lived together. Soon he would wake up and walk into his shabby living room, where Alfred would be waiting for him with a cup of tea made and his newspaper ready for him. In the newspaper, he would read about a young farm girl who had been discovered in mangled bits, not his beautiful Alfred. Never his beautiful American. Alfred was too beautiful, too perfect for this to have happened. How could he have been so blind? He cupped Alfred's cool face with his shaking hands, his muscles still moved freely, so he couldn't have been gone long. Arthur's heart felt like it had stopped beating, and tears welled in his eyes and fell down his face. He threw his face into Alfred's neck and wept for a very, very long time.

* * *

_A/N: No comment. I'm sorry. Reviews are cool. Idefk. Sorry. Go read Finem Pax Romana or something. Its a Spamano Fallout AU and it's a lot better than this shit._

_Please tell me if you find any mistakes._


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